Abandon Thought
by runninxwithxscissors
Summary: Aminta van Goetham was a normal sixteen year old girl... Well, as normal as you can be when you're a halfblood witch getting privately tutored in magic. But! Everything gets turned upsidedown when she's sent to England, and worse... Hogwarts. Now, amp
1. England!

The inhabitants of the houses along the Rue Montmarte were used to hearing strange noises at strange times, and none of them so much as glanced up from their work on that Saturday morning as they heard a scream of fury reverberating from the old gray house on the hill. "Poor Monsieur van Goetham," They said to each other, shaking their heads and sighing. "Having to put up with that daughter of his. Like a harpy, that one,"

Inside the house, the same Mr. Edward van Goetham looked up at his sixteen year old daughter, a look of surprise on his somewhat pudgy face.

"England!?!?!?!" She shrieked, looking every bit like her deceased mother in her worst tantrums. "You're making me move to ENGLAND?"

"I thought that you'd be happy, darling," He said frantically, hurrying to get a word in as she took a deep breath. He knew that the worst was over from previous experience; the yells and crying only ever lasted during the initial shock.

"You know that I have to go to Romania to do some research, and then I'm going straight to America, and there is simply no way that you can come with me," He looked up at her, trying to make it seem like he hadn't just dropped a bombshell. A major bombshell.

She sat with a sound like all the air that was holding her aloft was leaving her body, collapsing into an overstuffed armchair, looking at the fireplace where she would, no doubt, be thrust into.

"England?" She said again, this time with a hint of desperation in her voice. Her father sighed, removing his glasses. "It's what your mother would have wanted, darling," He said softly. "Now, go and pack."

And without a word, she ran up the stairs, giving her father one last glare. She wouldn't be going easy.

England.. bloody hell.

It was one of those days where normal people would stay inside, wrapped in a thick blanket, probably reading a nonsensical book. But since the villagers of Hogsmeade would be considered anything but normal, it shouldn't have surprised anyone that they were doing just the opposite of sitting at home and reading.

Rain was falling in thick sheets, torrents; the sky was black with clouds, though it was no later then four in the afternoon. Shoppers hurried by, hardly pausing; they did not seem at all hindered by the fact that they were getting enough water to fill two large oceans dumped down their necks.

Inside the warmth of The Three Broomsticks, Aminta van Goetham wrinkled her nose in distaste as someone opened the door of the pub, letting in the wind and dripping water onto the floor. Aminta was just now remembering, sitting alone at a four-person table, how much she disliked being wet. And being cold- the combination of the two made everything about the day worse. She wrapped her hands even tighter around the steaming mug of chocolate in front of her. She drained her cup, and then glanced over at the table next to her with a smile. A group of Hogwarts teachers gulped down firewhisky, brandy, and malt whiskey, their eyes flickering towards the clock mounted on the wall. Aminta snickered: tonight the Hogwarts students would arrive at the castle for the start of term. It took a few seconds for that bit of information to sink in. Tomorrow… tomorrow she would be starting her own studies at Hogwarts. The familiar snakes of nervousness twined around and around in her stomach. If she could, she would gladly perform any hex, any curse, on her tutor. Who cared if he wasn't qualified to teach NEWT level classes? So what? Who cared about her future? All she cared about was the one, gnawing fact that tomorrow she would be forced up the hill towards the castle, to attend her first day of classes as a Hogwarts student.

It was enough to make her want to heave. Or hit something. Or someone… her father or her worthless magics tutor. Or both.

"Miss van Goetham?" Aminta looked up and gave the stern looking woman a polite smile which she returned, sitting with her own drink.

"I am Professor McGonagall," The stern woman said, peering at Aminta over the edge of her glass. Aminta murmured something indistinct and polite.

To be frank, Aminta didn't really care about "protocol" and "curfews" and "student regulations"; once she heard that she would be expected in the Great Hall first thing the next morning, and that she would be allowed to stay with her sister as long as she "didn't think it would be too dangerous to wander around Hogsmeade at all hours" she was set. It wasn't like she was planning on joining the Quidditch team or any of the clubs… it was just two years worth of classes, and then she would be free. Thank Merlin.

"Now, I want to be quite clear," The Professor said, and Aminta looked at her, listening a little guiltily. "Your… situation is very unusual. We have hardly any transfers or non-boarding students. If your work is not quite up to the mark, or you don't perform to the standard that Hogwarts expects… I am afraid that the consequences would leave much to be desired. Do I make myself clear?"

"Perfectly. Crystal clear, actually," Aminta said, giving her version of a sweet smile; McGonagall didn't look very convinced. She sighed.

"And you know that you'll be a part of Gryffindor House, right?" Aminta nodded- she had already been up to the castle the hour before, and had already dealt with the horrid, old hat. She could feel her nose wrinkling at the thought of all those mothballs.

It was clear then that McGonagall didn't have anything else to say, but Aminta didn't quite know how to make a graceful exit. It wasn't as though she wanted to leave the pub- it was warm, after all, and dry. After a few silent, tense moments, McGonagall looked at the clock on the wall and nodded.

"Right. I should be going… students will be arriving soon, you know…" She straightened her hat and gave what she obviously thought was a comforting smile. "I'm sure that you'll enjoy your time at Hogwarts. I'll see you in class tomorrow, Miss van Goetham,"

And with that, she and the other teachers reluctantly made their way outside.

On the morning of the first day of the school term, a very tired Neville Longbottom was rudely poked in the side by one Dean Thomas. It took a few moments (Dean had chosen the second beforehand to stuff his mouth with bacon) but after a few grunts and a great deal of pointing and gesturing, the entire group of sixth year Gryffindors (and quite a few other students) looked to find what had caused the excitement.

A girl stood at the great double doors of the hall, her robes and blonde hair wet from the still-falling rain. Even Neville, clueless as he was to many things, could see the excitement about this. All the students knew each other, at least by name, and many of them had been with the same seven people in class for five, six, seven years. The appearance of a new student so late in their schooling was not something that happened often. In fact, it had never happened in the years that Neville had attended Hogwarts School. And it probably helped that she so happened to be quite pretty; several boys where looking her way, probably due to that fact.

The girl paused, her light eyes almost narrowing (it would appear that she noticed the pointing fingers, all directed at her); she faltered, looking quite out of place and nervous. Neville felt a bit sorry for her.

"Miss van Goetham!"

With a sigh of relief, Aminta turned towards the voice, pointedly ignoring the fact that the skinny dark-haired boy at the closest table was staring at her with a most unbecoming curiosity.

"Professor, I wondered… er… about my schedule?" McGonagall nodded once, with what could almost be a smile crossing her face.

"Yes, of course. Here," And she handed Aminta a piece of parchment.

Aminta looked at her classes, nodding once. Everything was in order… Defense against the Dark arts, Herbology, Transfiguration, Charms, and Ancient Runes. Plus the standard study halls that she knew she would enjoy. The only problem….

"Er… Professor…" She stopped, not at all sure how to explain her predicament.

Aminta had, quite possibly, the worse sense of direction. Even getting to the Great Hall was hard for her- she had almost ended up in the dungeons, and it was only because of the startled first year boy who had pointed out the hall that she had managed to make it to the bloody hall in the first place. And now that she was actually there, she wasn't at all thrilled about it; she raised her eyebrows at the sandy-haired Gryffindor, who had the decency to look a little chagrined at being caught.

"How… do I get to…" She glanced down at her schedule and then looked back at the professor, "Ancient Runes?"

"Ah, yes," McGonagall nodded once, and then gestured to a girl behind her.

"Miss Granger will go with you."


	2. This Was Going Well

"Er… hi."

"Hi," This was going well. Aminta folded her arms even more securely around her books as she stood face to face with "Miss Granger." Finally the other girl smiled, and after gesturing for Aminta to follow, made her way out of the Great Hall and up a spiral staircase that hadn't been there ten minutes before.

"Oh, I'm sorry, you must think I'm terribly daft," The girl said as they climbed; Aminta briefly wondered how she could sound so cheerful this early in the morning. It had taken a whole twenty minutes just to get Aminta out of bed and down the stairs that morning. "I'm sorry. I'm Hermione Granger. What's your name? Professor McGonagall didn't tell me."

"Oh, erm, Aminta van Goetham," She stammered.

"Oh, are you French? You didn't transfer from Beauxbatons, did you? I didn't think so. But we've hardly ever had any transfer students, everyone's simply thrilled. You u are /u a Gryffindor, right?" She asked, and Aminta, startled, nodded once.

"Oh, wonderful," Hermione said with a glowing smile. As Aminta told her about her schedule, she tried to keep track of where they were; however, she could already tell that there was no way she was going to find her way back to the Great Hall. What she needed was a map.

It was with a large amount of trepidation that Aminta entered the runes classroom. As she had expected, every eye in the place turned to her, following her as she sat at the table and took out her books and parchment.

"Who're you?" One boy said rudely, but before Aminta could answer, the professor strode in and began to lecture, waving her wand so that pictures of various magical alphabets showed on the wall.

If her first class was anything to go by, Aminta would be having a long, boring, monotonous day. The teachers seemed determined to ask her the hardest questions, testing her. It was clear that they, at least, found the fact that a witch had chosen not to go to school until so late in their education laughable. The students just seemed to find it odd.

Her classmates all appeared to find her fascinating for some odd reason. Aminta, honestly, for the life of her, couldn't figure out u why /u . She knew she wasn't that good looking or intelligent…

"Ernie Mcmillan," One boy said, pompously coming up to her as they were packing up at the end of Defense against the Dark Arts. "Welcome to Hogwarts. Want me to show you the way to the Great Hall?"

Not at all thrilled with being treated like a princess, who could get lost at any second (no matter how true that probably way), Aminta looked around wildly.

"Erm… no, thanks, I'm just… er… common room, get a head start on all that homework,"

She darted away, and it was only when she arrived in an unfamiliar corridor that she realized that she had never been shown the way to the common room.

"Damn," She thought to herself, wincing as she imagined walking into the Great hall, with all those people, all of them ready to stare at her as though she were some new, exotic brand of giraffe.

She turned around, deciding to go back to the classroom and ask the professor- even if he was formidable and probably the most terrifying one teaching at the school. She had only gone a few paces when she saw a boy from a few of her classes, wearing the same red and gold tie that she had been forced into this morning.

"Oh, thank Merlin," She said to herself before running after him.

"Hey! Hey! Wait!" The boy turned, and she could tell that he was startled to see her coming- running- his way. "You're a Gryffindor, right?" She panted.

"Er… yeah…"

"Do you know how where the common room is?" She asked, absentmindedly twirling a curl around her finger.

"Yeah… do… you…. You don't know where it is?"

"Um… no… obviously not," She said with a giggle, though not unkindly. "Can you show me? I don't want to have to go and find the Great Hall by myself, either.. I'd actually probably get lost on the way to find someone else to ask directions." She laughed brightly, for the first time all day, even though she knew her own remark wasn't that funny. It was probably just pent up exhausting and nerves.

"Oh… um, sure, sure," He looked around then gave her a brief smile as they started off, going in the opposite direction she had been heading in the first place.

"What's your name?" He asked as they passed several suits of armor; one stuck out an iron-clad leg, but the boy stepped right over it, smartly.

"Aminta van Goetham," She said for what had to be the fiftieth time that morning.

"Oh…"

Aminta waited for a moment, but when he didn't offer his own name she felt obliged to ask.

"And yours?"

"Huh?" He asked, evidently lost in thought.

"Oh… oh, Neville Longbottom,"

For the first time, he looked at her square in the eyes, and the look on his face just u dared /u her to laugh at his odd last name. Needless to say, she didn't.

They stopped at long last in front of a portrait of a rather large woman in a pink dress; Neville said the password, and they stepped through the hole that opened behind her. The common room was a bit crowded, mostly with other sixth and seventh year students, and filled with comfortable looking armchairs, all sorted around a fireplace that had a great blaze already going. Aminta sank thankfully into one chair, looking out the window- it was raining, again. She sighed; she would have to walk home in the rain. Stupid apparition laws.

"I think he's gonna teach him new spells! Or maybe even ones that haven't been used before!"

Aminta looked over at the sound of a rather obnoxious boy, who was obviously quite excited about who knows what. He was seated with Hermione, who had already started on their rune homework. Aminta's eyes flicked to the dark haired boy beside them, raising her eyebrows slightly as she saw "The Boy who Lived" or whatever they were calling him now in the papers seated there two. Harry Potter. The three of them were obviously deep in conversation, and Aminta didn't bother going over and asking Hermione for help on her own essay, even though she knew she would need it.

"So, Neville," She said at last, feeling boredom overtake her. "What's up?"


	3. Soggy Hellhole

"Meena… Meeeeeena…"

Ugh. Aminta closed her eyes, squeezing them even tighter together, rolling over and nestled even further under the blankets. There was no way she was getting up today. No way. Nu-uh. It was raining, for whatsits sake! Raining! Aminta + Rain NO.

"Meena, get up."

"No," She said crossly, then she gave an almighty shriek as her duvet was wrenched from her arms, and a jet of ice-cold water sprayed down her neck.

"Damn it, Elise! What the hell!" She sat up, wiping water from her chin with a growl, glaring up at her sister, who merely laughed and pocketed her wand again.

"Up and at 'em, baby sis," She said with a smile, hands on her hips. "You have school today, and I have to work. We're getting a big crowd today,"

Elise was Aminta's big sister; twenty-three years old, she co-owned the Hogsmeade Inn. Like Aminta, she had pale porcelain skin and luminous gray eyes, but her hair was a fiery red-auburn, instead of blonde.

Aminta flopped back down and buried herself under the now-damp duvet.

"Up! I have a letter from dad here, and something to talk to you about before you leave,"

"A letter from dad?" The last time he had written a letter while on the job, she had been tiny, with pigtails and dungarees.

Aminta hurriedly tore off her nightgown, pulling on her robes and uniform, dragging her heavy bag from the corner and piling the rolls of parchment from her desk on top of her books. Letters from her father hardly ever came- he was always so caught up in her writing. It was enough to get her out of bed, even after a mere four hours of rest.

She bounded down the stairs, her blonde hair caught up in a plait, rubbing sleep out of her eyes as she thought of the ominous breakfast crowd that was no doubt awaiting her arrival. Elise didn't have to go through the hell of public education, she thought jealously, helping herself to a blueberry muffin and tea. She had managed just fine with her tutors. Only a few things kept Aminta from sinking into bed and never getting up again.

One was the thought that all the professors seemed to expect her to fail. And the other was the handful of decent people who hadn't made her feel like a complete idiot- Neville, Hermione. And of course, the promise of the letter.

She opened the heavy envelope, lifting the wax seal. It took her a good five minutes to decipher her father's handwriting- if it could be called that. It was a good thing that he had a typewriter for his books, or no one would be able to read a thing he wrote. It was only through much practice that she was able to make out what he had said.

i Dear Aminta

I hope this finds you well, and not in any trouble. Elise has assured me that you are indeed going to classes, which I suppose I should take as a good sign. Don't leave the country, however. Ha. That was a joke. But seriously. No repeats of last weeks "running away attempt."

Me? I'm alright. I've discovered some absolutely marvelous ruins and temples here in the eastern part of Scotland- I travel on to Romania tomorrow, and from there, Bulgaria and a few islands. I'll send you and your sister a book or two on Gaulish warfare and wizardry. I know you two enjoy that subject.

I'll send you a picture or something- you did leave your camera at the house, right? You know I don't want to taking photos all the time.

Don't do anything stupid.

Dad

/i 

"Cheers," Aminta said with a grimace, folding the letter back up and sticking it under the tea-pot. "Our father is just such a kind, loving soul. I can't imagine him sending his youngest daughter to a soggy hellhole of a school. It's quite impossible,"

Elise just rolled her eyes, having heard the same thing, or a version of the rant, ever since Aminta had arrived the previous weekend. She had been at Hogwarts for a whole week, and she was still complaining.

"And so understanding too! Yes, what else would a sixteen year old girl want at boarding school but a book on swords and shields and armor?"

Elise quickly interrupted before she could gather any steam

"Now, Meena, I talked to madame Rosmerta, and she's thrilled. She says she could use the extra help on weekends when everyone is in the village, and if you can come over once or twice a week in the afternoons, that'd be great. It would give you something to do besides complain, at the least." Aminta grinned; she had approached the barmaid and landlord at the Three Broomsticks for a job, and now that she had something to do other then lay around the inn or the castle on the weekends, she was a bit more cheerful. With a sigh, and one last look aching with longing towards her room, she made her way outside and up the hill towards the castle.

Merlin, what a walk. Her feet were aching by the time she reached the castle gates; she snuck through, eager to avoid Filch.

"Aminta!"

She turned, then smiled as Hermione ran towards her, wearing gloves and a scarf. "Are you going to go watch the try outs?"

"Try outs?" Aminta raised an eyebrow, looking around. She half expected to see posters for, oh, a talent show or a dance-off or something posted on the stone walls of the castle. Then she remembered.

"Oh, right! Quidditch… Gryffindor team…yeah…." She wrinkled her nose. "Nah, I think I'll go do a bit of homework while it's quiet…"

"Alright," Hermione said. She did look a little disappointed not to have any company, but.. eh. Aminta didn't feel like watching people fly around on things that should be cleaning floors. . She didn't see the grandeur or the charm about broomsticks… honestly, she couldn't stand flying.

She made her way around the confusing passageways, going by the little roped off bit of swamp under a window. Making a mental note to ask Hermione about that (Hermione knew just about everything there was to know about the castle), she skipped up a few flights of stairs, and ran straight into a group of students she didn't know.

They were unfamiliar, but the scowl on the face of the apparent leader stopped her in her tracks.

So… she was finally meeting the infamous Draco Malfoy.


End file.
